I’m Not Worth a Handshake

Yesterday, our new CIO visited Oklahoma City for the first time. All employees were asked to clean up their work areas and dress nicely. I wore a nice pair of khakis, a dress shirt, and my suit jacket that normally only comes out of the closet for weddings and funerals. For those of you who don’t know, I work in a basement behind locked doors; dressing up isn’t a typically a job requirement.

If I seemed bitter or sarcastic on Monday, I was. Every time anyone of importance visits our branch, they never visit the basement. “Important people are coming, be sure to look your best!” And, just like Charlie Brown thinking he’s going to kick the football, I pick up my work area and dress up. And, every single time, they never materialize — at least, not down at my the level of the organizational chart. I spend the entire day feeling like a high school freshman, sitting along the sidelines and waiting to get picked to dance.

I spent the day working as usual, beads of sweat rolling down my back under my suit jacket, under my dress shirt, under my undershirt. Throughout the day I heard rumors — “oh, he’ll be coming soon!” — but of course, just like all the others, it never happened. “If the CIO comes down later, tell him I wore a suit,” I said to Johnny, as I walked out at the end of the day. Johnny stayed an hour later than I did, but he didn’t get to meet him either. It is a demeaning feeling to realize as an employee you’re not worth an introduction or a handshake.

Ah well. I’ll probably get the kick the football next time.

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